Amongst the various daily tasks in the prep kitchen, my two coworkers and I tackle some extremely serious issues. As we clean, I often like to throw out a “what if” kind of question and the answer can defy space, time and finances. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go and what would you do?” Lounging on a hot beach in Mexico, sipping cappuccinos in a stylish Parisian cafe, and sightseeing in Cuba, were amongst the answers. Most recently I asked: “If you could see any band (living or dead) in concert, who would it be”? The question developed into a Top Five. Kathleen, a mother in her early 50′s, mentioned The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin. I thought of Florence and the Machine, Amy Winehouse, Billie Holiday, Jeff Buckley and Joni Mitchell, and wondered aloud as to whether going to Woodstock could count. Jessica, 20, comes within earshot and I ask her the question. She pauses, scrunches her face in thought and smiles decisively, nodding her head in earnest: “Beyonce”. (Hey, why not?) It’s silly, but it lets the mind wander and adds a dash of imagination to the common, ordinary work day. But there is one topic that arises again and again, without an answer, like an ancient riddle written in a secret language, an impossible equation never to be solved.
“Who would you rather sleep with…Ryan Gosling or George Clooney“?
Its an important question, and I invite you to take a second with it, soak in the idea as if it were a piping hot bath. Jessica leaps onto Gosling “that body, those abs!” whereas Kathleen leans towards Clooney. “He’s like an Old Hollywood movie star, like Cary Grant”. For me, its akin to the conflict I suffer every time I go out for breakfast…do I want savory or sweet? Should I get the strawberry waffles or do I want the eggs Benedict? Again, there isn’t a correct answer, they are both perfectly delicious, but it’s about what you need in the moment…which is usually me getting something sweet, wishing I had chosen savory, then picking bacon off my husband’s plate, which he loves, incidentally. I totally get the Gosling appeal, his cool boyish demeanor, his heartbreaking bone structure and dreamy blue eyes. As for Clooney, I love his salt and pepper locks, his style, his manner. He would be classy, yet cheeky, look great in a tux and would always have liquor on hand. With Ryan Gosling you get Disneyland and skinny jeans, with George Clooney it’s Italy and crisp white collared shirts.
Writing about such a heated topic requires an acceptable level of internet research. What a sexy web I am weaving, my blog sandwiched in-between the Gosling and Clooney internet page tabs. I have stumbled across some breaking news though, apparently Clooney and his latest squeeze are “on the rocks”…which should be a surprise to no one. What kills me though is the report stating that Ms. Stacy Keibler ‘dislikes’ spending months hibernating with George for months on end in Lake Como, Italy. You must really question a person’s mental fitness when anything other than months on end in an Italian villa with George Clooney makes sense, especially when the option is in the bed next to you. Kathleen and I have united over the idea that his villa would be simply divine. “You just know he has a speedboat” I sigh. “Of course he does, he’s George Clooney”, Kathleen agrees. And our minds wander to late night feasts of seafood and pasta, gathering around the candlelit table with heaps of wine and celebrity friends. But just when the scale is tipping in favor of George, Jessica mentions Gosling’s beard in “The Notebook” and the indecision presses on. The conversation goes from the kitchen to the lunch room, and we weigh the pros and cons as if there is a time limit before the offer expires. As I write about this, and pore over photos of the two actors, I ask my husband his thoughts. He stared at me for a moment, and did not provide a comment, he’s mildly offended by this topic and is still getting over my once feverish appreciation for Hugh Jackman in “Australia”. As far as work goes, the discussions and comparisons will wage on, as if we three are a deadlocked jury. But I can’t help but wonder…could I choose Clooney and just pick a little Gosling off of your plate?